


Distractions

by dudesbeinggay



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, FH GTA AU, Funhaus GTA AU, GTA AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 20:42:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4073224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dudesbeinggay/pseuds/dudesbeinggay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet for tumblr prompt "It's all YOUR fault!" with Grillems</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> GTA AU, trigger warning for blood + mild violence.

“It’s all YOUR fault!” The table shook as Joel slammed his hands down on it. 

James couldn’t meet his eyes. “I know that.” 

He could feel Joel’s eyes on him. Everyone’s eyes, judging him, hating him. If Bruce didn’t make it…

“I fucking know that,” he whispered to himself. 

* * *

“Dun dun dun, dun dun, dun dun dun…" 

“James, SHUT UP!“ 

"Duh-nun-nun-" 

"I swear to fuckin’ God-AH!” Bruce yelled over the comms. 

Lawrence couldn’t see Bruce, but he heard the gunshot and he tracked towards the men shooting, taking them out quickly with his sniper as everyone yelled over the comms. 

“Bruce?!” 

“What the fuck happened?” 

James had been closest to Bruce’s position, but he hadn’t said anything in the last minute. The guys wanted to rush over, but there were still a number of bangers from the other crew they had to take out. 

“He got shot,” Lawrence filled in breathlessly. “Bruce? Bruce are you okay?” he tried as he covered for the two of them. There hadn’t even been that many people in their zone, but no sounds whatsoever were coming from the back of the room where James and Bruce presumably still were. 

“James, what’s going on?” Lawrence asked with a calm voice he didn’t feel.

“God DAMMIT!” Joel’s voice came through the radio. Boy did he sound angry.

* * *

Bruce cracked his eyes open and saw James more panicked than Bruce had seen him in their years of working together.  He actually thought he saw tears in James’s eyes, though James’s expression did minutely improve when he saw that Bruce was awake. 

Bruce haphazardly tried to hold James’s hands where they were fisted in his jacket. He managed to get a weak grip on one. 

“James - James. I’m okay,” Bruce said. His voice was weak, but he meant it. The shot was bad, and he was hazy with pain, but he didn’t feel like he was gonna die any second, which is what James seemed to think. 

James’s eyes moved rapidly as he focused on Bruce and searched for the gunshot. He traced the blood to Bruce’s side, and pressed both of his hands against it. 

“Agh,” Bruce groaned, and he pulled back, trying to get away from the newfound pain. 

The world had narrowed to just the two of them, and neither were aware of the nonstop calls for them that were becoming more and more transparently panicked as their silence continued. 

A gunshot whizzed by the crates they were stacked behind, and James remembered,  _oh yeah, weren’t we in a gunfight before all this?_  James closed his eyes and tried to get at least part of his brain to focus on their surroundings rather than  _brucebrucebrucebruce_ …

James picked up Bruce’s hands and pressed them into the wound. Bruce’s head lolled to the side, and James put a hand against his cheek and lifted it so their eyes met. 

“Bruce-Bruce. I need you to put pressure on this." 

As soon as James pulled his gun back out, ready to pop out of cover and start firing back, the bangs coming from across the room stopped. He popped out of cover cautiously, gun out, but no one fired back. After a second, James crouched back behind the crate. 

Bruce’s eyes had a little more clarity, and his hands were pressed up against the wound in his side. Thank god. 

"Bruce, Bruce we gotta get out of here.” James started to look back towards how they had entered. It looked clear, now might be one of their only shots to get out. 

“Okay,” Bruce groaned, “help me up." 

James threw Bruce’s arm around his shoulder, holding it in place with one hand, and he wrapped his other arm around Bruce’s waist, gun at the ready. 

When James stood, Bruce’s vision went black for a second. His legs would have buckled, but James’s hold was strong. After a second, Bruce found his feet. His side was burning with pain, but he could deal. 

"Let’s go,” he said, going for the strongest tone he could muster. James had put on a brave face, but Bruce knew he was still panicking internally. 

“BRUCE!” Spoole screamed over the comm. 

For the last five minutes, the guys had given up on trying to get in contact with James and Bruce, successfully salvaging what they could of their heist. 

However, the undercurrent of panic had always been there, and apparently Sean could no longer hold it in. 

“Mm,” Bruce hummed into the comm as they shuffled out of the room. It was basically nothing, but that sound was the most the crew had heard in minutes. 

Immediately five voices came through at once, different variations of ‘are you okay’ and ‘what the fuck is going on.‘ 

“Yeah,” Bruce said. His voice was weak from the struggle to keep moving, but James had shut out anything that wasn’t exactly what was in front of him and who was beside him, so Bruce knew he had to answer. 

Various sighs of relief could be heard over the radio. 

“Oh thank god,” Adam said. 

“We’re,” Bruce shut his eyes against the pain, they were crossing the threshold and his side had been jostled more than he’d like. “We’re headed out the back where we came in." 

They could all hear Bruce fading over the comm. The continued silence from James was concerning, but Adam would just have to take Bruce’s word for it. 

James and Bruce reached the perimeter of the building where the van was already waiting. The door slid open to reveal Matt. His face was unreadable. 

James half carried Bruce into the back of the van with Peake’s help. They laid him down across the bench seat. 

When James let go, he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. He refused to look up from Bruce; he couldn’t meet Adam and Joel’s eyes from where they were sitting in the front seat. 

In reality Adam and Joel both just looked concerned for their boyfriend, but in James’s head they were glaring at him. This was his fault, and he knew it. The growing feeling of guilt in his gut made him want to cry. 

Adam turned forward and drove around towards where Lawrence should be waiting. Joel was double checking everything, listening to the police feed to make sure they were clear. 

"There’s no one on our tail,” Joel confirmed with Spoole. 

“James, help me.” Matt was securing Bruce in the seat.  _Good fucking job, James. You get your boyfriend shot and then you don’t even help try to save him._ James crouched to assist, his movements mechanical. 

* * *

A breeze blew past James’s face, the cold air fitting with how he felt. 

Standing out on the balcony to their apartment made him feel like the world was standing still. The only mark of time passing as James waited outside was the sun rising above the horizon. 

It had been barely peaking over the edge of the city when he’d left to get more space. He’d refused to shed any tears - Bruce would make it. Caleb had said chances were good, he would make it. 

Solid arms encircled James’s chest from behind. He hadn’t even heard the balcony door open. Based on the height of the person…

“Peake?” James spoke in a small voice. 

“Hey. You need to come inside, Bruce is asking for you." 

James turned to face him. "Bruce is awake?" 

Peake nodded. But while the moment he’d been waiting for was here, James couldn’t move. He could swear his feet were planted to the spot, cemented in. 

In the few seconds of silence, Matt noted blood still caked all over James’s forearms, his hands, his shirt. 

"Okay, you don’t have to see him right this second. You should go wash up." 

Matt gently pushed James back towards the apartment. 

* * *

"It was my own fault, Adam." 

"I  _know that_. If you hadn’t been shot, I would be yelling at you about it. Just be careful, okay?" 

Adam stood at the foot of the bed Bruce was on. No fewer than three pillows were behind Bruce to prop him up, and some color had already returned to his face.

"Bruce?” They both turned their heads towards the door at the quiet voice. Expecting Spoole, Bruce was shocked to see James standing hesitantly in the doorway. 

“Come in, doofus,” Bruce said playfully. James just stared at him. 

“James?” Bruce asked, concerned. He’d seen James after a few heists gone wrong, the panic that would set in. Obviously this had been the same, and everyone had their heads too far up their damn asses to do anything about it.   
“Come here, James. Right now." 

Adam slipped out the door as James carefully moved to sit on the bed on the opposite side to Bruce.

A groan escaped when Bruce reached out to hold James’s hand, and James jerked his head towards Bruce. Bruce got a glimpse of huge blue eyes that shone with guilt.

 _Fuck it_ , he thought, and he clasped James’s hand strongly in his own. 

"I’m so sorry Bruce.” James’s voice warbled. 

“It’s fine, James. It was stupid of me." 

"It was my fault,” James’s voice was only a whisper. 

Bruce moved his thumb in circles on James’s hand, the only comforting motion he could perform. 

“It’s not. Even if the guys said it was, I know. It would’ve happened anyway. And I’m fine, I really am." 

With that comment Bruce finally felt as if James was looking at him rather than through him.

A singular tear slipped down James’s face, but he tried to smile through it. The expression even looked a little real. "I guess you are." 

Bruce went to wipe the tear away, but yelped and pulled back, hand going to his side. "Bruce!” James chastised. 

“God dammit Bruce. They worked hard at fixing you up. Those supplies don’t come cheap.” There was that jovial tone Bruce expected. 

“It’s fine, look,” James said, and he wiped his tear away dramatically. Bruce laughed lightly, careful of his side. 

When Joel came in a few minutes later (after a productive discussion in which Matt Peake reminded him that none of them were perfect) he didn’t actually get to apologize to James. James had become Bruce’s fourth pillow, and his arms were strategically holding Bruce in places without bandages. 

They were both fast asleep, in spite of the fact that James couldn’t be that comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt with Bruce Greene directly on top of him. A little drool spilled out of Bruce’s mouth onto James’s shirt, and Joel giggled. James and Bruce would surely give each other shit about that when they  _both_ woke up later.


End file.
